


Elsewhere // A Sterek AU

by thepsychicwolf



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Afterlife AU, Derek and Stiles, Elsewhere AU, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Sterek slow burn, Teen Wolf AU, derek and stiles au, elsewhere, sterek, sterek after highschool, sterek afterlife au, sterek au, sterek fic - Freeform, sterek friends to lovers, sterek post canon, sterek post show, stiles and derek - Freeform, stiles and derek au, teen wolf fan fic, teen wolf fan fiction, teen wolf fic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:05:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicwolf/pseuds/thepsychicwolf
Summary: It's been quite a few years since graduation. Stiles Stilinksi hasn't seen Beacon Hills in years. Beacon Hills was finally part of his past and things were truly looking up. That is, however, until a deadly plague started spreading around the earth. Stiles was happy, living in New York with Scott, and finding himself again. But when he is 24 years old, he catches the deadly plague, and knows that there is no going back.Stiles wakes up on a boat. Pretty soon he becomes aware that this boat is leading him to the afterlife, in a land called Elsewhere.Even though he is dead, Stiles has to start his life over again. Although he had to leave earth, he is able to find the light again in Elsewhere. He knows he will never see earth again, along with his family and friends. However, the unexpected awaits him in Elsewhere.





	1. Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> Besides being based off of Teen Wolf Characters (obviously), this story is also inspired by the Novel "Elsewhere" written by Gabrielle Zevin. The novel is about a young girl who dies and wakes up in the afterlife in a place called Elsewhere! People live in Elsewhere, just how they live on earth, except everyone ages backwards. Eventually people become babies again and are sent back to earth to be reborn. In my story, I am not placing Stiles in Elsewhere after his death on earth, where he finds certain people who died in his past. Except now, some of them are younger.   
> You do not have to read Elsewhere to understand this fic, but please check it out as it is so good and used to be one of my favourite books! I didn't use any storylines or characters from Elsewhere, just the fictional land. I owe a lot of the creativity in this to Gabrielle Zevin.   
> Thank you for reading and the next few chapters will be up very very soon !

One moment ago, Stiles was dreaming about the sea. The water was calm, and clear of dangerous waves. Their boat was surrounded by desolation; no land in sight. Scott at his side, Stiles felt okay. These days, his dreams are the only place where nothing hurt, and he doesn't have to worry; away from the hospital bed and away from the heartache. Stiles find it strange how years ago his dreams only brought terror, but now they bring him a place of refuge. He also finds it strange when he is awoken froma very loud and disruptive horn blaring in his ears. 

In the city, Stiles is used to car horns, however that was most definitely not a car horn. He sits up, hitting his head on something, and when he opens his eyes, he's not in his usual hospital room. He's on a top bunk in an unknown room, while someone is snoring obliviously underneath his mattress. The idea of a possible kidnapper or serial killer being the one snoozing below is a thought that runs through his head. But Stiles has had enough of anticipating when death will hit, so he just jumps off the bed because he has nothing to lose. But it's nothing to fear, it's only a small teenage boy snoring like a heavy smoker. 

With a shove, the boy's eyes are shooting open and he sits up just as quickly as Stiles did. He hits his buzz cut head on the wood and his pale eyes are looking at Stiles in horror. With his hand, Stiles has to muffle the piercing scream which emerges from the boy almost instantly.  
"Shut up!" Stiles yells at the kid, "I'm not a kidnapper! They probably just moved us around in our sleep. We're probably new roommates. The hospital is getting quite full, you know?"

Once tears have finished forming in the boy's eyes, and he's stopped struggling as much, Stiles lets him go and realizes how scary he must appear to be physically. Due to the sickness, Stiles' eyes are just as sunken as they had been when he was the nogitsune. Except, this was possibly worse, because the sickness had cracked up his skin, and little sores and bloody lines outlined his face along with most of his body. Waking up, anyone would find that sight terrifying, especially after just hitting your head. 

"You have the sickness! Get away from me!" The boy shrieks, kicking away to the corner. 

"Don't you?"

"No!"

Stiles stands back, feeling awful, because just by touching the screaming boy's mouth, he's probably given him the sickness already. "Why the hell are you even here then?"

"I don't know! I was in the hospital because last night at my football game I hit my head and I needed surgery and they put me under and now I'm here! How could they pair me up in a room with you! I'm going to sue! You've probably, like, killed me already!" As the kid turns, Stiles notices the bald spot on the back of his head, closed off with sore looking stitches. "Nurse!" The kid cries out, but no nurse seems to be coming. 

That's when Stiles notices the window. 

The boy is tugging at the collar around his shirt. "Oh god, I'm going to die. I've caught it. I feel it in my lungs already. Who even are you? How far along are you?"

"Far along? I'm not pregnant," Stiles says, although he's looking out the window, trying to grasp what he's seeing. 

"I mean how far along are you in the phases of sickness, you idiot."

"I- I'm around the second last- shit, look behind you."

"So you're already almost dead then, aren't you? God, you look awful. The articles say it just gets worse. It must suck-"

"Shut up," Stiles snaps, jumping onto the bed and staring out the window. "I don't think we're at the hospital."

The kid flinches and moves away from Stiles even more. "What are you talking about?"

Stiles doesn't even care as he grabs the kid's shoulder and pulls him close. He goes quiet once he realizes what Stiles is talking about. 

They're on water. The window is small and circular, but the boy manages to get over himself for a moment so they're squished together as they peer out. Stiles can't see land, similar to his dream from moments ago, and he suddenly feels scared; he sees it in the boy's eyes as well. 

Stiles stands up. "Scott!" he calls out, hoping that his friend is somewhere in this new hospital still -that is, if they're still even in a hospital -and that he's listening for Stiles, which he's done since Stiles hit the third phase of the sickness. The second phase was when Stiles' smelling sense stopped working and his taste buds also stopped working. The stomach pains began, and when he hit the third phase, he was vomiting more and more, and eventually the seizures came along. Scott always listened in at night, knowing when to show up and sit next to his brother. Even when he reached the fourth phase, and Stiles had to go to the hospital, Scott stuck around as he wore the face masks and the gloves, spending almost every night with him, even on the nights Stiles forgot who Scott was. Lydia felt uneasy when the fifth stage hit and Stiles' face began to crack like a porcelain doll, but Scott was there every day in his body suit. If only Stiles knew where he was now. 

"Shit," is all the boy says at first. He stands, walking to the door which turns out to be unlocked. Stiles hesitantly walks up behind him, "What's out there?"

The boy shoves him back and pokes his head out. It's a few seconds later that he turns back and shuts the door behind him. "Okay, so there is no way this is the hospital."

"No shit."

"Absolutely no hospital in Jersey looks like it does out there. It looks like a five star hotel."

Stiles blinks. "Did you say Jersey?"

"Yeah."

 

Stiles stares the kid down, despite how uncomfortable the boy feels by his bloodshot eyes. "But I was in Brooklyn."

The kid looks one hundred percent done with Stiles. "Well, I don't think that really matters now. Wherever we are, we aren't in Jersey City and we are definitely not in Brooklyn."

"Well, we may as well go out and look around, right?" Though Stiles is unsure, he isn't getting bad vibes about going out there. At the moment, the only bad feeling he has is how fast everything is moving. This is the longest he's been standing up, without any assistance or wires connected to his body, in months. 

"Okay," he nods, as if there's nothing to worry about. Who knows what could be in store for them? Maybe they've been kidnapped? Maybe their kidnappers are going to kill them at the end of the hallway. Maybe Stiles will never see Scott again. Or maybe New York sunk. 

"Wait!" Stiles hisses, pulling on the boy's sleeve, "Before we go out there, tell me who you are."

"Why does that even matter?"

Stiles is tired of this kid's attitude. "Because if someone is out there, waiting for us to find them so that they can kill us, I want to know at least some things about you before we die together."

"My name is Finn," the boy sighs, as if telling Stiles his name is the most annoying thing in the world. 

"Stiles," he tells him.

"What?"

"My name is Stiles."

"Oh god, I have to die with some kid named Stiles."

"I'm not some kid! God, quit being an asshole for two seconds! I'm a twenty-four year old man with feelings!"

"You look like a ten year old with a crusty face."

Stiles shoves Finn out of the way and walks out into the hallway. 

Right away, he panics because a young man is at the end of the hall wearing a sailor's outfit and looking at a clipboard. Before Stiles can hide back in the room, they make eye contact, but Stiles doesn't get shot, instead he gets a small smile. 

"Oh good! Mr...," the sailor looks at his clipboard quickly then back up at Stiles, "Stilinski! You're up!"

"Yes I am. Um, who are you?"

"My name is Presley. I work for the ship. It's very nice to meet you," he says, holding his hand out without hesitation for Stiles to shake, which Stiles does with extreme confusion. People have trouble even looking at Stiles; no one has wanted to shake his hand for a very long time. He shakes Presley's hand, feeling suddenly much more at ease, as if he's not going to get killed. He has no idea where he is anymore; he has not a clue in the world. Maybe he's been brought to some institution where everyone has the sickness. Maybe Finn is experiencing amnesia and is actually sick. 

It's not until Presley says, "Welcome to the USS Nile as we board to Elsewhere," that Stiles thinks he might not even be in the same world he was once in at all. 

"Elsewhere?" Finn pops his head out. 

Presley's eyes widen with slight joy when he sees Finn."Oh, you're both up! I'm-"

"Presley. Yeah, I know, Elvis," Finn rolls his eyes. "Where are we and where are we going?"

"I know this may seem scary to you right now, but I assure you it's alright. Elsewhere-"

"I'm not scared I just need answers. And also who the hell roomed me with the basket case?"

Presley just looks at Stiles for support. His eyebrows are pulled together and Stiles notices how young he really looks. "Is he always like this?"

"We've just met about two minutes ago, but so far, it seems like it," Stiles tells Presley

"Well, I just want to let you two know that breakfast is being held in about ten minutes on the third floor. The elevator is just at the end of the hall."

"But that's not answering my question-" Finn starts but Presley begins laughing. 

"I don't feel like answering your question," Presley smiles. Even though Stiles also wishes he had an answer, he's rather satisfied by Presley's remark.

 

***

 

Finn grumbles all the way to the third floor. Stiles really tries to not initiate conversation, but Finn won't shut up. 

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Stiles retorts, walking into the large dining area that looked like a damn restaurant, just filled with cafeteria tables. What he notices first is that half of the people in the room are seniors. A group of about ten old ladies sit at a table, eating pancakes and talking loudly about knitting. It is so weird. The other half of people are people who had the sickness. Quite a number of them look like Stiles; their faces cracked and peeling, and some of them looked even worse. Stiles had only seen a few people in the sixth phase of the illness and it wasn't a pretty sight. A good ratio of their skin had been completely stripped, their hair gone, and casts were all over their bodies due to the breakage of the bones. Stiles wondered how they were even functioning. 

"Oh god," Finn groaned, covering his mouth. "I'm going to die."

An old man laughed at Finn's side as the boys stood in line for food. 

"What?" Finn snapped. 

"Don't you know where you boys are?"

"No. No one in this sticking place will tell me."

Stiles rolls his eyes at Finn, because they've literally spoken to one other person besides each other until now. 

"Well, you're dead!" The old man laughs and then offers up his plate to Stiles. "Would you like one of my strawberries?"

He ignores the whole 'dead' thing: "I'm not actually supposed to have strawberries."

"Correction: you weren't allowed to have strawberries. But now it doesn't matter."

"Excuse me, did you say we were dead?" Finn gaps at the man as Stiles licks his lips, staring at the bright strawberries. 

Still ignoring it, Stiles asks, "I can eat the strawberries?"

The man passes Stiles a strawberry. He holds the little, bright berry in his hand; the contrast of the red to the white of his hand almost makes him nauseous. 

"It's okay. I promise," The old man says before putting a strawberry in his own mouth. Finn keeps pestering him with questions about their apparent death, but the act of ignoring him continues until Stiles decides to fuck it and eat the damn strawberry. He's going to die anyways, who cares if it makes him throw up for the sixth time that day. The strawberry doesn't even taste like anything, because nothing tastes like anything anymore, but the texture is satisfying enough after all the soup and gross mushy foods Stiles has been having for months.

The man watches in wonder. For a few moments, Finn stares between them in absolute fury until the man turns to him and explains. "You are dead, my son. It's unfortunate. You're both so young. And you seemed healthy."

Finn's eyebrows relax, which Stiles' hasn't seen him do since he first saw him sleeping. "Stiles, tell the man he's crazy." His voice is just as rude as before, but those eyes are giving away his worries. 

Stiles stays quiet and eats his strawberry which is the best experience he's had in months. It suddenly all becomes too much for the moment. Tears begin to form in his eyes and he simply walks away. 

"Where are you going?" Finn wines, following him. 

Stiles pushes him away, and passes through the crowded food line. Still following, Finn tries to catch up, but Stiles finds a door and goes through, entering a long empty hallway, just like the one he opened up to before. It seems that Finn has lost him. At the end of a hallway, is another man dressed similarly to Presley. Stiles' eyes still make his vision watery as the tears keep coming in waves because he knows what's going on but can't tell if it's real or not. He hates to admit it, but he's crying because he wants it to be real. But it can't be real, this has to be a dream or some sick joke. But god, he doesn't want to be sick anymore. 

Directly towards him, the man walks, holding a simple white envelope in his hands. 

"Mr. Stilinski?" The man asks once he's standing in front of him. He pauses for a moment before reaching into his pocket to grab Stiles his handkerchief. "I have a message for you."

Stiles accepts the handkerchief, but not the letter just yet. As he dabs his eyes he asks, "Why have you all been so nice?"

"We are here for you, Mr. Stilinski. We want your voyage to Elsewhere to be as comfortable as possible."

Nodding, Stiles hands the tissue back. "I'm sorry if I get you sick."

"That's not really how things work here. I won't get sick, don't worry." He gives Stiles an assuring smile. Then, he holds the letter out more pointedly. 

"Who's it from?" Stiles asks, seeing his name written on the pale blue envelope with his name written in gold ink.

"Earth."


	2. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is able to watch his funeral. They reminisce about his last few years on earth.

According to the man who handed Stiles the envelope, the observation deck is on the seventh floor. As Stiles made his way to the elevator, he wondered why on earth his dad would've held his memorial service in Brooklyn. The sickness was heavier on the east coast than it was in the west, and he didn't want his dad catching it. He wondered if Kira was going to come all the way from California. And Malia's exams were soon; would she even be able to come down from New Haven? Was Melissa going to be able to take work off to come? And how was Scott? How was Lydia? Stiles was just as nervous and just as he was excited to see how it all played out.

            As he stands in the elevator, he still hasn't quite comprehended everything. Where was this boat going exactly? How did he even get on it? He imagines ghosts dressed in the ship crew uniforms carrying him away. How long has it been since he's "died" if it's already his funeral day? Does time even work the same way it does in his new destination than it did back on Earth?   Stiles fiddles with the envelope and stares at the letter in his other hand.

            He stops on the seventh floor, which opens up to a bright deck, which is lined with telescopes. There are only two other people on the deck. One is an old man who is smiling as he gazes into a telescope, and another is this young man who's leaning over the railing and crying. He looks healthy like Finn, and Stiles knows better than to ask if the man needs some consoling.

            He walks over to a telescope, not really knowing what the hell to expect. He raises his eyes to the hole, and waits quietly for the world to fade into view.

            The first thing Stiles Stilinski sees of his funeral is Melissa McCall. She is sitting nervously outside the building. Stiles recognizes a few of his doctors from the hospital talking to her. They seem fine, as if they go through this every day, which they basically do, and so does Melissa, but obviously, Stiles' death would be different.

            Stiles has no idea how these telescopes work, but he doesn't really think much of it because Scott suddenly comes up behind Melissa, placing a hand on her shoulder. He gives the doctors a sad smile and guides his mom inside. She holds onto her son's arm as they walk into the building. Stiles keeps his eye on Scott, as he goes to speak to Stiles' dad. Noah is standing by Stiles' closed casket, trying to give people smiles, but when Scott gives him a hug he loses it. Scott and Noah probably haven't seen each other for a while. Everything is quiet besides the music playing in the main room. Scott is the best friend in the entire world because before Stiles died the two of them joked around and Stiles made Scott promise to play the Guardian's of the Galaxy soundtrack at his funeral, which seems to be exactly what's happening. It didn't make sense to many people as they walked in to hear _Ain't No Mountain High Enough_ playing, but it seemed to make them feel less nervous, which also made Stiles feel better.

            Stiles hummed along to the music, trying his best to not think about the way his dad looked while there was nothing he could do to help, or the way Scott's hands shook when his mom left him alone for a few minutes. Watching the people enter and sit down before the service is very surreal, especially when Malia walks in, her black business suit on, and looking beautiful as ever.

            For the first time during the funeral, Stiles actually listens to someone's conversation. Malia walks up to Stiles' casket and places a hand over it softly like many others have been doing. It's sort of weird. Especially when she glares at it.

            "Malia, you made it," Scott says, walking up to her side.

            She glares at him. "What the hell type of music is this?" Its refreshing for Stiles to see Malia being normal in contrast to the depressing casket.

            Scott blinks. "Stiles wanted it."

            She nods and takes her hand off the casket. "Who's here so far?"

            "Well, lots of people you don't know. As for people you _do_ know, there's me. Lydia isn't here yet. She's been... she called me this morning. She was having a rough time."

            And as if on cue, Lydia walks in through the main doors, clutching onto her purse. Stiles wishes he could be there for her to clutch onto instead. Her hair was done, but her makeup wasn't. He still loved her when she cried, and she was always beautiful, but she really looked like she needed him there with her.

            Malia glances over at her. The two girls give each other one simple look and all Malia says to Scott then is, "At least she smells nice."

            Lydia walks right past Malia and Scott; she passes the casket, going to Noah to give him a simple handshake before going straight to sit down at the edge of the third row, by a few people Stiles was in the police academy with, including Danny. Keeping his eye on her now, Stiles watches as she sits in silence as the people finish getting seated. He wonders who's saying a eulogy, and if they're going to play one of those slideshows, or if they'll show that stupid photo of him from his first day of college, where it rained like crazy and he forgot his umbrella so he zipped his small little coat up around his head, making him look like a jelly bean.

            Once the service actually begins, Stiles nervously watches as Malia walks up to the podium to speak first. She gives a little speech, managing not to cry just yet. He feels like they probably chose Malia to speak because she's able to remain very straight faced. The speech is basically about Stiles' life, including his birth date, that time he played lacrosse, the time he had a rough year in highschool (which Malia didn't go into details about. No one needs to know he was basically possessed.) And then it explains his police career and then how he died even though everyone knew that already. Then the slideshow of little videos and photos begins, which makes Stiles happy.

            He's seen all the photos before, of course, yet he still enjoys them. There are photos of him when he was five, trying to light a candle with his mind, or when he was seven and had a bruise on his head because he was swinging around his baseball bat and hit himself in the face. He was happier then, and there was only one photo of him and his mother, probably because that would be way too much for his dad to handle. The photo is of her just a month before she got sick. The two of them were writing up Christmas cards when Stiles had decided glitter was a good idea and "accidentally" got it everywhere. His dad was kind of upset, but he remembers his mother laughing. Everyone who got a card that year was probably finding glitter in their carpets for a while after that.

            Stiles looks at the people's faces as they watch some of the slideshow. Most of them wouldn't know the stories behind a majority of the photos, but they give bittersweet smiles anyways, especially when they find the really dorky photo of him and Scott when they were fourteen. Stiles was telling Scott another joke, and Scott was rolling his eyes under his mop of hair. Then it gets to when they were a bit older, skipping most of the shitty times in highschool that Stiles doesn't want to remember, and it goes right to graduation. There's a cute photo of the family he'd formed over time. He, his dad, Melissa, Scott, Lydia, Malia, and even Derek, all were standing in front of the high school. That next week, Stiles and Scott were leaving to New York.  Malia was leaving the next morning to set off on her path to get her law degree, and Lydia wasn't leaving for another month to New York because she refused to live with Scott and Stiles in Brooklyn, and still hadn't found an apartment for herself. Melissa had just gotten out of debt, and John had paid all the medical bills. Everything was good, even with Derek, who wasn't so lonely anymore. However, just two months after the photo was taken, the sickness sprouted, and Derek happened to be one of the first few to go down. That photo was the last of him in the slideshow.

            After the slideshow, people had been teary eyed, and Stiles even found himself with wet cheeks. He missed Scott and his dad and even Malia. He missed Lydia, and Melissa, and wanted to hold them all forever, but they were out of reach. He was never going to hug his dad again, or hold Scott's arm, feel Lydia's hair, and get drunk with Danny.

            Just as Stiles started feeling like this was too much, the slideshow stopped so he kept watching. Scott stepped up to the microphone, thanking Kira for making the slideshow. She apparently couldn't make it to the service because of family problems. Stiles worried. Had her parents caught the sickness? Was it spreading badly to the west coast?

            Scott cleared his throat. He didn't look nervous, just tired. "So, for the next little while, I will invite up a few of Stiles' close family members and friends, and afterwards, anyone who wants to speak should feel free to come up."

            Stiles watched Scott glance up from his little notes he had, and he caught eyes with Lydia, who gave him an assuring smile, telling him to go on.

            Scott looks back at his paper and continues to speak. The only time he looks up is to look at Lydia, and nowhere else. "Anyways, for any of you who don't know, I'm Scott. Stiles and I have been friends since we were young. We were always like our own little pack. I was the lame kid with asthma and he was the dorky one with a buzz cut. You saw the photos. We were both dorks. Honestly, high school was rough. The two of us experienced many horrible losses in our lives, but we always stuck together. We came out of high school stronger, and moved here after graduation. We were still dorky, but we were dorks in college now, and in a bigger city." Scott looks around the room, sucking in a deep breath. "It's not going to feel the same without him anymore. I don't want to talk about high school, but I can talk about the last four years.

            "We had never been to New York before we moved, and you shouldn't move somewhere without having gone there before, because we got lost almost every day for the first month." There was a pause in Scott's speech as the people took a moment to let out a soft laugh. "It was the very second day that we moved in, and we had a very small apartment together with one room because we couldn't afford very much. Stiles had the idea that because we now lived on our own, we were "official" adults, and so he tried making dinner for us from scratch. He tried making crepes. I don't know why. They didn't look like crepes they looked more like some sort of casserole. Don't even ask me how that works, but somehow it tasted pretty good! We laughed about it a couple times and those crepe casseroles became a regular thing. He made one the day he had to go back into the hospital. I don't know the recipe, or how he even started to make those stupid things, but they were good." Scott got a few people smiling. Stiles hopes that whenever this stupid boat gets to its destination that he'll be able to make those crepes, and maybe send Scott a recipe.

            Scott continues on, talking about funny things Stiles has done that everyone is going to miss, and Melissa starts crying halfway through because Scott brings up the time she showed up at the apartment for a surprise visit to New York and Stiles was dancing quite hardcore to Taylor Swift, and thought it was Scott when she walked in, so he decided to fart really loudly in her direction. It's embarrassing, and Stiles wishes Scott could see the glare on his face, but at the same time he just wants to hug Melissa, and hug Scott and hug everyone who's giggling as their eyes water.

            After about five embarrassing stories, Scott says his final conclusion: "My friend Stiles was... really weird. But I love him. He's my brother. And if he were here today, or somehow can hear what I'm saying," Stiles smirks, "then I would want to tell him, I'm with you 'till the end of the line, bro." Staring down at his notes, Scott frowns, and Stiles, with every piece of him, mentally reaches out to Scott to say it right back.

            Once Scott invites anyone with any more stories about Stiles or anything they'd like to say, he goes and sits down. At first, a few people look around at each other, waiting for who will go first, and it happens to just be one of Stiles' coworkers. Stiles is surprised by how many people are actually getting up to speak after that. Most of the stories aren't crazy embarrassing, they mostly make him out to be a hero, if he's being honest, especially stories from his work friends. Stiles is smiling to himself, and he's almost forgetting that he's dead until his dad comes up.

            He knows, as it's happening that he's never going to want to think about this moment again. He watches his dad move and the gleam of his eyes as he talks about how weird Stiles was when he was a hyperactive ten year old. And then he listens to the way his voice shakes as he tells people about when Stiles went to the hospital when he was in high school, and the nights he couldn't sleep. Noah looks bravely at the people in front of them and says, "I hope wherever Stiles is now, he is safe, and he never feels that way again. That's all I've ever wanted for my son."

            In that moment, Stiles stops. He doesn't want to hear them talk about him anymore, and he simply takes his eyes out of the telescope.

            He probably has rings around his sore eyes from looking in the telescope for so long, and when he steps back, the people who were on the deck are not there anymore. Instead there's a young lady, dabbing her eyes with a tissue as she watches through her telescope, and then there's Finn. He sits quietly on a bench behind Stiles and looks up at him.

            "This isn't a dream isn't it?" Finn mumbles, running his fingers through his hair.

            Shaking his head, "No," Stiles looks out at the view of the sea. "We died, Finn." He can feel it now.

            "I wasn't supposed to die. I had to go to college. And meet a really nice girl, or boy, who knows, and maybe learn to knit!"

            "Well, I don't feel dead. Maybe you can still do those things?"

            "But what's the point of dying then? Do you just change locations? Like moving to the next level?"

            Stiles sighs and then he's staring out at the water. "I think I see land."

            Finn runs up to the balcony and stares out. "Where the hell are we going? Are we even on earth anymore?"

            It's definitely land ahead. It fills Stiles with excitement but also extreme worry. He doesn't know anyone here besides Finn, and who knows if they need to get into extreme survival mode and then Finn will be the only one around. Honestly, the kid seems like an idiot, and would probably die in two seconds if they were in survival mode.          

            "I guess we'll figure it out." Stiles gestures to the exit way, signalling that they should leave to figure out what's going on. But Finn stays seated.

            He stares at him for a few moments until Stiles finally asks, "What?"

            "So what was your funeral like?"

            "It was... it was okay. I was supposed to die about a year ago anyways but the medications were improving. So for the past year, I've just been waiting to die, I guess. Also, everyone knew it was coming... I'm guessing it really was not like that for you, huh?"

            Finn shrugs. "Everyone was crying and praying. It was boring, honestly."

            "I'm sorry, kid."

            "What for? It's not your fault my funeral was stupid."

            "I'm just sorry you had to die."

            Finn nods. "Thanks."

            The two boys decide to leave the observation deck then. Quietly, they follow some signs and end up in the recreation area where most of the ship's guests are. For a while, they sit with an old man, listening to him talk about a camping trip he had just gone on. It only took the boys about ten minutes to realize that the old man had Alzheimer's. He referred to Stiles and Finn as his cool neighbours, "James and Todd," who were apparently brothers who played ball hockey on the street all the time back in Canada. Although, the old man couldn't figure out what had happened to Stiles' face and kept asking, "Ah Jimmy, did you fall again?"

            It was sweet and quite entertaining, listening to the man, until the announcement on the intercom was made.

            "Hello, I would like to announce that we are officially arriving in Elsewhere! We will be docking in approximately two minutes. Every passenger shall be greeted on the docks, so do not worry. Please do not rush and please do not crowd. Many passengers are weak in the knees or in the heart, so just remain calm. Everything will be explained later."


	3. Kingdom Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter title inspired by Coldplay's song of the same title

Despite the announcement, a commotion begins. Everyone is either just as confused as Stiles and Finn are, or they're shouting to no one in particular that they "get to see their loved one again." Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what will be greeting him. How does this work exactly? Finn gets the right idea and goes to talk to a sailor, asking who will be greeting them. Stiles is only partially listening, because he's so nervous and quite scared, but then he hears, "Everyone knows someone, like a grandparent for you, maybe, that has died on earth. They are now here in Elsewhere and are informed of your arrival. Don't worry, kid, you won't be alone."

            An image of Stiles' mother quickly appears in his mind.

            He steps up, and towards the door to follow the rest of the passengers off the boat. Finn calls his name, but he quickly loses him without even trying. Down a hallway, and out the doors, Stiles finds himself on a dock. The sun is blinding his eyes for a moment. He squints out, seeing a crowd of people; some reuniting and some still waiting. But the atmosphere is calm and warm, just like when his dad would take him to the shore in California. He felt okay. Squinting, Stiles scanned the crowd as he walked out more so that he wasn't blocking anyone's way. He didn't know for sure if she was going to be there, or maybe it would be someone else. Would they recognize him? Would his scarred face frighten them? All these worries flew threw his brain and he felt his mind scatter. Then he saw her.

            She looked just under thirty, which didn't make very much sense, but her hair was just as dark and just as wavy as he remembered. She didn't see him yet, but she bit her lip, anxiously looking for him as well.  Her big eyes that matched his looked full of hope and longing as she clutched onto her little blue sign that had "Stiles" written on it as if he didn't know who she was.

            "Mom," Stiles breaths out, politely excusing himself as he pushes past a few people. "Mom!"

            She blinks once before turning to him. The way her hair bounces, and the way the sun makes her eyes shine into a honey colour, it all just makes him feel okay.

            Her lip quivers when she sees him. "Oh my god. Stiles."

            He made his way into her arms in seconds. The sign dropped to the ground and they simply held onto each other tightly. Fingers softly tangled in his cotton tee and he buried his face in the nook of her neck. He had obviously grown since the last time they saw each other, but he felt just as small, and just as safe as he did when he was young, before she got sick and before he lost her.  

            "I didn't know if you'd recognize me, so I made my sign," she muttered to him before sniffling.

            He pulled back so that they could really look at each other. "Are you kidding? How could I forget what you looked like? If anything I thought you wouldn't be able to recognize me, you know, with all of this?" He waved at his face, showing off his wonderful scars.

            Her eyes welled up with tears even more as she beamed at him. "You're not in pain are you? Oh my god, it's even gotten into your eyes." She placed her hand on the side of his face, outlining the side of his eye. In about a month's time, the doctors were expecting him to go completely blind. So far the scratch hadn't been doing anything to his eyesight, maybe just making it a bit foggy when he woke up in the mornings.

            "I just have a headache," he admits, realizing for the first time since he's woken up on the boat that the constant pain he's been feeling all over isn't there anymore. "Where are we? Why doesn't it hurt? How did you even know I was coming?"

            "There's one of the observation decks on the boat, did you use it?" Stiles nods. "Well, they have a few here in the city. I check in every once in a while."

            He nods, still holding onto her arm like a little boy who doesn't want to get lost in the amusement park.            

            She takes his hand and guides him out of the crowd, probably to her car. "All your questions will be answered, I promise. You have to go into a meeting in the morning where they'll explain details and everything. For now, I'm taking you home."

            "Home?"

            She smiles. "Yes. I live alone, but you know my neighbours and they're always randomly walking in so it's never lonely. Also, my other neighbour is a nurse, and for the next couples of weeks your sores and everything is going to be healing and it's going to be very uncomfortable so you feel free to call her anytime. You can meet her tomorrow, because I don't think you're in the mood to be out all around the city. You should rest."

            He blinks as they approach the car. "Wait, who are your neighbours that I know? Why am I going to be healing?" It's honestly, the best news he's ever heard, that he's going to get better.

            She opens the car door for him. "You'll see, honey." She lingers before the two of them get into the car, staring in admiration even though his skin is cracked and he probably looks quite dreadful. Her smile is soft and she says, "Everything here is okay. You're going to be okay."

            Once they get into the car and get started on their way home, Stiles finds everything so calm and normal. He doesn't feel dead, he feels okay, wonderful even, under all the confusion. The clock in the car reads _5:14 PM._ Stiles glances out into the evening as they drive along the shore.

            "Do you live by the ocean?"

            "Um, kind of. Okay, I'll explain some things right now, I guess. So, this city is called Elsewhere."

            He nods, "I heard someone say that on the ship, I think." 

            "It's an island, but it's quite huge. I haven't even been to both ends. We are south, right now, which is where most of the beaches are, as you can see. I live in the south west area, which is about twenty minutes away from here, and our house is only about a five minute walk from this really nice beach. They sell some really awesome ice cream." Stiles smiles at the way she says, 'our house.' She keeps glancing over at him as they speak, smiling every time and he smiles back because wow he missed his mom. "Downtown is about a ten minute drive away from our house. Up north gets colder and colder. They get snow in the winter and they even have a couple mountains. South doesn't. If you want to head up north we can go visit, but if you want to move there, you're on your own. I like the sun," she says with a small laugh.

            "How does that even work? Is this island really that big?"

            "Yes. I don't know details," she grins. "We have seasons, and holidays. Everything is basically the same as it is on Earth."

            "So we aren't on earth?"

            "I don't really know that either."

            Stiles lets out a light laugh. "I like the afterlife."

            "I'm glad you do... but it's not really the afterlife. It's still life. Just the opposite."

            "What do you mean?"

            She pauses and taps her fingers against the steering wheel. "You see, that's the weird part." He stares at her, waiting for her to continue. "We age backwards here. That's why I am younger, obviously, than since you last saw me. I'm now twenty-six years young."

            "Wait, what the hell?" He furrows his eyebrows, staring at her, trying to figure out how the hell his mom is only two years older than him. He hasn't noticed it until now, but the fine lines around her eyes are absent, along with the deep laugh lines.

            "I know I know. I'm supposed to be old because I'm your mom. But you get used to it, I swear. Don't ask me how that works either, because I don't know. All I know is you get younger, you get healthier and you recover from your scars and your grey hairs," she turns to him as they stop at a red light. Placing her hand over his, she gives him a hopeful smile, "You don't have to feel the pain so bad anymore, Stiles."

            He sucks in a breath. "What happens when you become a baby?"

            "They send you back to Earth to be reborn and it starts all over again."

            "That's... this is so cool."

            "Just don't think too hard about it all. It'll become normal pretty soon."

            "My face is going to look normal again?"

            "Yes, dear."

            He gaps at the world around him, feeling so amazing, and so full of hope. "I can't believe this. Oh my god, why can't earth be like this?"

            "Well, you still can have bad times. Heartbreak and skinned knees are still things that exist here," she giggles at his amazement, "but for the most part, everything is pretty good."

            "If I'm getting younger does that mean I don't need to go to college? Oh my god, I'm not in debt!" He yells and opens his window, "Do you hear that world? I'm not in debt!" His voice cracks as he yells which causes his throat to feel more cracked and dry than usual.

            "We do have college here but it's not a common thing. You can get a job though. I mean, you don't need to, and it's not really a job. It's more of a hobby that you get paid for."

            "What?"

            "That'll be explained tomorrow. Basically, don't worry about money or work too much. Those aren't real big issues."

            He is smiling so hard, and his heart is beating fast because he isn't thinking about what he's lost, he's thinking about what he now has. "What's your job?"

            "I'm a flourist."

            "Wow. That is- That is amazing." He's basically ten years old again, leaning his head against the partially open window, admiring the view and just admiring everything.

            They pull into a neighbourhood with cute little homes. Stiles let the nice breeze ruffle up his hair. His mom smiled happily to herself as they drove up to their home.

            "Oh look, they're outside," she mentions to herself mostly as she looks out her side of the window.

            Stiles quickly sits up straight and takes a look at what she's talking about. Derek Hale is the very last person he thought his mom was talking about when she said he knew their neighbours. Stiles' jaw dropped, watching Derek who looks fresh faced and just as young as he did when they met in the woods years ago. Except now, in this new world, he isn't frowning anymore.

            "Oh my god," Stiles mumbles as Derek actually seems to be _laughing_. "Derek?"

            His mom nods. "You two were friends, right?"

            "Oh my god, yeah. He looks... he looks great." There's a girl in the yard with Derek, who's probably his older sister Laura, considering the way they look so alike. She's yelling at him, but because Derek is _laughing, oh my god,_ she can't be _really_ yelling at him. "That's Laura, right?"

            "Yeah. Derek's about tweny-three? Maybe twenty-two? I don't know. Werewolf aging was weird on earth so I'm not exactly sure how old they are. They aren't werewolves anymore but-"

            Stiles blinks rapidly, waving his hands around, "Wait, you knew about the werewolves?"

            "Yeah. I'm actually friends with Laura, you know. I do have friends."

            "What do you mean they aren't wolves anymore? How did-"

            She bites her lip, looking for a way to explain. "It's kind of like there's a supernatural barrier between Earth and Elsewhere. Their powers and abilities were removed. It annoys Laura because she misses eavesdropping, but Derek says it's refreshing."

            "He looks so happy," Stiles glances over again to Derek as he waters the lawn. Laura is sitting on the front porch, reading the news to him as she glares. His grins are up to his ears and Stiles feels so strange.

            When his mom shuts down the car, she goes to open the door. "Let's go say hi! They've known for a couple days that you're coming. They seemed very pleased."

            "Damn right!" Stiles unbuckles his seat belt and leaps out of the car. Well, he tries to leap. It's more of an awkward tumble out of the car as he still isn't the strongest. He can barely walk on his own, but he puts all of his energy into walking over to Derek.  When he shuts the door and turns back to look at Derek, Derek happens to be looking right back at him. It's so weird to see him without his beard that he grew, or his glasses.

            "Stiles," Derek mutters, his smile relaxing as he sees his old friend again, and goes to shut off the water hose.

            "God damn. Derek Hale, jesus fuckin-" Stiles is walking right towards him, and Derek doesn't really realize it's coming, but the second they're close, Stiles pulls Derek close for a hug. Stiles lets himself forget about how his skin may look, or how he probably doesn't smell like himself anymore, because this is the most okay he's felt in what feels like forever.

            Derek is smiling, Stiles knows because he can feel it against his neck when Derek allows his face to fall against it. Stiles' mom is walking up, greeting Laura who's greeting them back. But Stiles really forgot how close he and Derek actually ended up being for that while after Highs School; after the supernatural commotions and the quite horrible times in general. Derek's shirt feels kind of wet, and Stiles imagines Laura spraying him with the hose.

            "How have you been?" Stiles asks casually. "You are smiling, and I'm so sorry dude but it's so weird."

            Derek's fully grinning now but he rolls his eyes which is at least a bit more normal. "I'm doing very well. This is my sister Laura, who I've told you about."

            Laura places down her newspaper and walks over to Stiles. "Hey there," She grins before giving him a big hug of her own.

            "Wow, I've heard so much about you." Stiles says because that's what people say.

            Laura raises an eyebrow. "Really now?"

            "No. I don't know much about you actually. Derek just said once that you played really loud music."

            "It's still true," Derek mutters, giving his sister a look.

            "I've heard a lot about you actually," Laura admits after pondering that for a moment. "When I first met Claudia, I had no idea who you were, and then when Derek came into town, Claudia cried for like two days and the two of them sat in the living room for a few hours talking about you."

            Stiles' mom shrugs, "It's true."

            "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Laura," Stiles says politely. Laura's voice is quite loud and she's beautiful and tall and honestly has intimidating eyes, but Stiles feels they'll get along well.

            Derek's hand for some reason is still holding onto Stiles, and knowing Derek, who's usually not very vocal about feelings, this is his way of saying _I missed you._ It feels like a dream.

            "Are you hungry? We just had dinner but there are leftovers. There are always leftovers. You can basically walk into our house whenever and eat our food and we won't kill you." Laura offers, grabbing onto Stiles' hand, beginning to drag him inside.

            "Stiles, honey, are you tired at all?" Claudia asks as well, and Stiles really appreciates this family feeling he's got going on.

            "I'm always tired, but yeah, I guess I can try and eat a little bit."

            Laura guides him through their front door, "Great. Derek cooks a lot. Well, bakes. But today we have some spaghetti."

            Stiles' heart feels warm and happy for the first time in a long time as Laura takes him into the kitchen. The last real meal he ate was over a year ago, and even then, it still wasn't so awesome because his illness was making him nauseous all the time. It especially sucked when he lost all sense of taste.

            "I'm not going to vomit this up, right?" He asks, looking at his mom for confirmation. Derek had sat down beside him, and they invited Claudia to sit and eat as well, so she sat across from Stiles as Laura went to serve the food.

            "Um, I hope not?" Laura says, not really catching onto what he's talking about exactly. "Derek's pretty good at cooking."

            Claudia giggles, "No, he means because of the illness. Stiles, I wouldn't have too much. It's only your first day and it takes time."

            "Oh shit, right," Laura says. "Sorry. I didn't really think of that."

            "Does the illness not exist here at all? People can't catch it?" Stiles asks, suddenly worried.

            Derek shakes his head. "Nope. Everyone's immune."

            "If we could catch it, we wouldn't have hugged you," Laura mentions, placing a very small serving of spaghetti on his plate. Because Stiles hasn't eaten normal food in months, even the very small serving seems like enough to fill him up. It takes him a few minutes to bring himself to actually eat it. No one questions it, which is nice; they just let him go at his own pace. Even though it doesn't have a flavour, Stiles feels content.

            Claudia is asking Laura about her day, and the two girls are chatting while Stiles eats, not really listening to the conversation.  He's so focused on eating and trying not to feel nauseous, he doesn't realize that Derek is looking at him until he finishes his food.

            "Oh my god!" Claudia exclaims, "We need to show Stiles the photos from last Christmas!" The way she says it is maybe a little too loud, and causes the headache that Stiles always feels to get slightly more noticeable.

            "Ah, I'll go get those!" Laura says gleefully, and Stiles has no idea what they're talking about because he's just staring right back at Derek.

            "You have sauce on your face, you idiot," Derek sighs, handing him a napkin.

            "Oh. Thanks." Once he wipes that away, Derek is still looking at him. Laura comes back into the room with a scrapbook that she begins examining with Claudia.

            Furrowing his eyebrows, Derek tells Stiles, "You look so different."

            "It happens with age."

            Derek smiles softly. "I used to go to check in on you guys with the observation decks a lot. Wait, you know what the observation decks are, right?" Stiles nods. "Okay, good. I stopped a couple years ago, though. I didn't even know you were sick until your mom told me."

            Laura and Claudia were not paying attention to Stiles and Derek's conversation and probably don't even realize they were talking because they interrupt, placing an opened scrapbook in front of Stiles before he can reply to Derek.  

            "This is at our Christmas party last year. One of my friends accidentally dropped a piece of cake on Derek's head. As you can see, he was not happy." In the photo, Derek is sitting there, glaring to the extreme. It makes Stiles laugh a bit, because that's the Derek he knows.

            "Wow, look how cute you are," Stiles grins to Derek then looks back at the photo. "How the hell did you get him into that sweater?"

            "He picked it out, actually."

            "Oh man, oh god, no you didn't," Stiles' eyes widen as he looks at Derek again. "Dude, seriously?"

            The tips of Derek's ears turn pink. "Shut up. It was comfy."

            "Hey mom, you look very nice in this one!" Stiles says, moving on to another photo, where Claudia is smiling at the camera alongside a few other people that Stiles does not know. "I don't think I've seen you with straight hair before."

            "And you never will again. But thank you dear." She places her hand on Stiles' shoulder and leans down so her lips can briefly press against his temple. Stiles has gone so long without actual skin to skin human contact that he knows it's going to take a while to get used to but he loves it. It's something he's missed so much.

            However, things can't all be happy and new right away. One moment, Stiles begins to feel a tingly feeling in his chest. At first, he assumes he's just overjoyed, because he really is, but then it begins to slightly hurt, and the tingles move throughout his arms. For different people, this could mean many different things. But Stiles has been dealing with this long enough and so it isn't much of a surprise to him when he blanks out a moment later.

***

            Someone had laid a light throw blanket over Stiles' body. It was soft against his bare skin, but his toes were still cold. Usually, when Stiles wakes up, he's too warm. The doctor's usually keep his room warmer than needed for a regular person due to poor blood circulation, and they always tuck him in with the heavy bed spread. So, even though his toes were cold this was refreshing yet it was also confusing.

            "Thank you for coming over, Max, especially on such short notice." An all too familiar voice says just as Stiles lets his eyes open just slightly so that he's squinting. The woman has her back facing him, but he can see the face of the other person. It's an unknown man with a relaxed face and long hair that is pulled back in a hair tie.

            "No worries," the man says, running a hand down the brown haired woman's arm, "This is my job, it's what I'm here for. This will happen more than once."

            "That was so scary," the woman's voice is hushed, her head dropping so that she's looking to the floor momentarily. Stiles makes the connection that this voice belongs to his mother. But it can't be her. "He hasn't even been here for a day. I knew things like this were going to happen, but it's weird experiencing it. I maybe shouldn't have taken him over to Laura and Derek's. That's a lot in one day."

            "The stress has very little to do with it. It's just the sickness and it's not your fault." The man's eyes flicker over to Stiles for a moment, which squeezes his eyes shut fully just in case the man see's he's awake. "He may not remember anything when he wakes up. But he'll be okay, this all just takes time."

            The woman nods, thanking the man once again before escorting him out. Stiles is left alone then, his eyes coming completely open in this unfamiliar room. Despite being absolutely unaware of where he is or what is going on, he isn't scared.

            It's a dream, he decides, when he feels that there are no wires connected to his body, controlling any bodily fluids or helping him breathe. It's just a dream, and he's dreaming up his mother, who walks in at that moment which causes a small smile to spread on his face.

            "Oh, you're awake." She is smiling back, coming to sit on the side of the bed. Placing a palm on the side of his face, she says to him, "You passed out right after you had your seizure. Do you remember anything?" 

            "Wait, what?" he asks, blinking slowly, leaning into her touch.

            "We were sitting with Laura and Derek."

            The warmth of her hand almost feels too real. "We were? Who are they?"

            His mother frowns, her hand almost slipping away but he places his own over it so she stays in place. "Derek Hale."

            His eyebrows furrow in frustration. If this is a dream, it feels wrong. Derek just passed away a few months ago and Stiles hates his brain for dreaming up this. He feels lost, confused, and fuzzy. All that comes out of his mouth is, "I don't like this."

            "What?"

            "I don't like this dream." In protest, he shuts his eyes closed again as if to end the dream. "Derek is dead."

            "Yes he is."

            "And so are you. This is just going to go away. I'm going to wake up and you'll be gone again forever."

            There's a moment of silence between them before he hears his mom sigh loudly and remove her hand. "Stiles, look at me."

            He just squeezes his eyes harder shut.

            "Stiles, honey, this isn't a dream. You are experiencing amnesia which is a side effect of your illness."

            "No offense, but that's bullshit. I'm only in the second phase of the sickness. I've read enough articles to know that the amnesia doesn't show up until Stage Four."

            He feels two hands on his shoulders then, his mom's voice soft and calming. "Please look at me. This isn't a dream. You are past the fourth phase, Stiles."

            He opens his eyes, but mostly because he wants this dream figure to not hold his shoulders like that.

            She tilts her head to the side, not looking sympathetic which would've been irritating to him, instead she looks frustrated. "Okay, look around. In a dream, things would be out of view, or edges would be blurred. But no, everything should be crystal clear, right? I am crystal clear."

            All he can do is nod.

            She continues, "I hate telling you this, but you're dead, Stiles. That sounds horrible, but it's how it is. This is not a dream."

            Everything still feels wrong, but he is feeling a truth in her words now. "I'm dead."

            "Yes."

            He presses two fingers on each side of his head at the temples. Usually, he'd count his fingers, see if there are extra's or if he's missing one, but he doesn't want to do that yet. "I got really sick?"

            "You were in the midst of Stage Five. You're now here with me in the afterlife. You've just arrived today actually, and you had a seizure, and are just experiencing amnesia."

            Sucking in a deep breath, he extends his arms out to look at them. Before he counts his fingers, he mildly panics at the intense cracks in his skin, looking like broken porcelain. "I remember reading about the amnesia," he says as he's counting his fingers. He counts ten; five on each hand, just how everything should be. "I have ten fingers."

            She stops at that, looking at his hands. "Yes."

            "I count my fingers to make sure I'm not dreaming, which I am not."

            Understanding, she nods, the look of frustration finally wiping away. "I'll remember that for next time."

            "Is this going to keep happening forever? I can't burden you with this."

            "No, it will not happen forever. Maybe only a few more times, the nurse said." He makes the connection that the nurse was the man who was here earlier as he woke up. Max, his name was. "You're going to heal. The sickness will go backwards."

            He doesn't even want to ask. Max the nurse must've given him some sort of medication because he feels oddly calm.

            "Wait, so Derek Hale is here?"

            Claudia smiles at the hope that appears in Stiles' eye. "Yes, honey. He's our neighbour."

            He almost smiles but he's putting a few pieces together. "I had seizure in front of Derek. Please tell me I didn't piss myself or anything."

            Rubbing a hand against his arm, Claudia shakes her head. "No, you didn't do that. You just fell to the floor. He carried you here, though."

            Stiles feels his face flush. He can't imagine Derek carrying him."That's still embarrassing."

            "It's okay. He's a mature kid who understands these things. He stayed for a while when you were sleeping to make sure you were okay."

            "How long was I out?" His head lolls over to look for a clock, but there is not one on the night side table. A clock wouldn't help his question anyway because he has no idea what time it was when he passed out.

            "About two hours."

            "What time is it?"

            "It's almost eight. Are you still tired?"

            He has to think about it for a moment, but then nods. Noticing how the window is opened in this bedroom that he's assuming now belongs to him; he wonders how the time works in this afterlife he's found himself in. At the moment he doesn't feel like asking.        

            "Alright, I'll let you get some rest then. Tomorrow I'll actually show you around the house, even though it's not that big. We just didn't get a chance to do that today. Anyways, when you exit this room, mine is just to the left if you need anything. And your washroom is the one directly across the hallway."

            The only thing he does ask is, "Wait. This sounds weird, but um, can you maybe stay here?"

            Claudia is still seated right next to Stiles. She nods slowly as her eyes appear to begin watering, which makes his heart tingle but in an actual good way this time. "I can do that."

            He nods back, making himself sit up a little bit so that he can move over. This new bed of his seems to be a queen sized, with its blankets a simple burgundy colour, going nicely with the beige walls and the curtains that have a grey floral pattern on them. He'll think about it more tomorrow and what he's going to do with this new room. For now, his mom lies down beside him. He gives her part of the throw blanket that's placed over him, and the two of them lie over the bed spread. His head hurts, and he still feels kind of lost, but this is his mother, and she's somehow here, like, really here, making it all okay.

            After a moment he lets himself rest his head against her shoulder, feeling small and ten years old all over again. His voice comes out feeling just as small, "I'm sorry if I worried you."

            "Don't worry. This is way more stressful on you than it is on me. I'm sorry you have to deal with this."

            "It's okay." It may not feel entirely okay, but Stiles feels it for practically the first time in his life that it was going to be.


End file.
